


and down into madness you go

by rubiesglow



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Forgive Me, Gen, TW: Suicide, and references of it in chapter 5, basically be wary friends, but its more implied than anything else, hence the character death, in chapter 4, king!au, more suicide in the last chapter, ruthless king gavin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-27
Updated: 2014-12-09
Packaged: 2018-02-15 00:39:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2209113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rubiesglow/pseuds/rubiesglow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gavin has been crowned King, and he plans on taking his revenge, picking them off one by one.<br/>He starts with Ryan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ryan

**Author's Note:**

> Helloooo  
> what is my title  
> i'm not good at summaries and titles this is why i stick to tumblr  
> this is also kinda edited a bit btw  
> anyway, you can see this on my tumblr as well, gavinfreever  
> enjoy!

The moment the crown was placed atop his head, the air seemed to change. Tension in the room sparked, the skies darkened.

And the newly crowned King Gavin only smirked.

"I am going to make you all pay," he spoke with a teasing lilt to his voice, but one with no jest, only malice. "Every single one of you."

Thunder rumbled outside the castle, and the five other men in the room started. The lands truly existed to suit its king.

He had begun with Ryan.

"Bring him to me."

His command was followed by the sound of chains dragging across the stone floor. The former Mad King’s grunts filled the silence of the room and King Gavin’s grin only grew more vicious.

"Gav…" Ryan coughed. "What is… why…"

A swift boot to the cheek shut him up quicker than he thought.

"That’s _King_ , to you, Haywood,” he sneered, feeling boldness surging within him he had never felt before. He had the authority now. He had the resources, the strength, the power. It was all his.

Nothing would stand in his way now.

Gavin stood from his throne, boots thudding across the red carpet as he grabbed Ryan’s chains, hauling him up to face him.

"I told you I would make you pay. All those taunts, insults, pain, everything you did or said with ‘jest’ will be returned to you in a much more harsher fashion.”

A laugh fell from his lips, mirthless and cruel and oh so sweet.

Ryan flinched at the sound.

Another kick had him doubling over, this time aimed at the stomach.

"I have a proper punishment for you, Rye-bread," he said, using the old nickname mockingly. "One I made specifically for you. Seemed so fitting."

And, as he lifted himself up, he also came to realize his punishment. Horror filled his eyes and he gaped at the man above him. No longer a friend, but a stranger.

Gavin dropped the chains and turned to the mindless servants at his disposal.

"Take him to the hole."

"No," Ryan croaked, reaching out as the servants pulled his chains back, away from Gavin. "Gavin! Don’t do this!"

It hit Ryan then just how insane Gavin had become. The crown was too much, too much for one like him.

"Join your pet, like the animal you are, Haywood," Gavin spat, eyes bright with bloodlust. They almost seemed red in the dim light of the throne room. Of the kingdom.

Ryan’s thoughts turned to Edgar. The monster it had become, ready to tear him into shreds.

"It’s your own fault, really," Gavin mused as Ryan screamed, the doors shutting with a deafening thud.

He took a seat on the throne, legs crossing as he brought out a small sack. Inside were five dolls, all designed to look like the five other men.

His fingers plucked the one in the tartan kilt and he stood, walking over to the small pool of lava they had placed there so long ago. He dropped it in, imagining the man in agony as the doll burned.

The next was easy.

Gavin picked a bearded one out of the sack.

One down, four more to go.


	2. Jack

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> jack is up next!  
> also i listen to the 'everybody wants to rule the world' lorde cover while writing this  
> and the idea was inspired by fakeachievementhunters on tumblr!  
> you can also read this on my blog, gavinfreever!!  
> tbh this isn't really as good as my ryan one but like, i wrote it so

Jack was the biggest in the group, no doubt. The man could eat a mountain of food and still go for seconds. Strength and a friendly face was an odd combination, but it was Jack.

So Gavin had to break him. Starve him. Remove that facade and bring out a beast.

He had him arrested and thrown into a specially fortified cell, with iron manacles and iron doors with steel bolts. Impossible to just simply break free from.

And he was kept there for a week. No food, and barely enough water. He wasn’t beat, wasn’t even spoken to.

Gavin made an appearance at the end of the week.

The sight of Jack shackled to the wall, defeated and pale, should not have made him as giddy as it did. He laughed, clear and bright, at the sight before him.

Jack grunted, lifting his head slowly to face Gavin. Instead of the rage he expected, it was sadness, regret, and—dare he say it—sympathy.

“We’re your friends, Gav. We were always your friends, and yet…”

He snarled at that, hand raising in anger and backhanding Jack sharply. Jack groaned and dropped his head.

“And yet,” he hissed, “you treated me like filth.”

“Gavin, no… We didn’t-”

There was pain in those blue eyes as Gavin forced Jack to look at him. “You did, and you know it. I was the weak link! Always.”

He sighed and loosened his grip, eyes on the floor.

“Always…” He shook his head, expression hardening as he faced Jack. “So now, you get to spend the rest of your days here. Or would you rather stay in the hole with what I assume are the remains of Ryan?”

Jack’s head jerked up, eyes widening and almost lighting with rage. There it was. Gavin repressed the urge to cackle.

“What did you do to Ryan?”

“Oh, did you not hear? Did you not realize why he was gone for so long?” He leaned closer, just above Jack’s ear. “I killed him, Jack. Fed him to his pet. What’s left of him is in the hole.”

He was expecting the retaliation. Stepping back, he watched as Jack struggled fruitlessly against his bonds, growling deep in his throat.

“Murderer!” he spat. “He was your friend, Gavin!”

“ _Was,_ ” he said with a grin. “Just like you.”

Gavin turned to leave, stopping when he heard laughter. It was almost hysteric.

“So you will just leave me here to starve? What of the others? They will figure this out soon enough.”

Ah, Jack. Ever the intelligent and the bold, even in situations he knew he would never get out of. Gavin turned back to face him, a smile on his face.

“Which is why I took the liberty of informing the castle of the mission I am sending you and Ryan on. Supposed to be gruelling, and lengthy. They won’t suspect a thing. Of course, until it is too late.”

“You underestimate Geoff.”

Gavin shook his head, saying nothing as he turned to leave. Jack’s yelling was easier to ignore now.

He turned to the servant positioned at the door. “You make sure he is dead by the end of next week. If he is not, whip him to death.”

The servant nodded, and Gavin returned to his throne, disposing of the doll as he went.

Two down, three more to go.

This time, he took out one in dark green.

Oh this, he would enjoy


	3. Geoff

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'll just post this now  
> i enjoyed writing this a lot, though i had to stop a lot bc i drifted off or just couldn't write  
> snakes man  
> you can also read this on my tumblr: gavinfreever!!

Geoffrey Ramsey. The first king. The man who had been his father figure for nearly eight years.

Throughout all those years, the pride of basically raising him and bringing them all up to power never left him. Gavin should have grateful.

However, it left him resentful.

“What the _fuck_ did you do?!”

Gavin clutched the green doll tighter in his hands, an easy smirk stretching his lips wide as he looked up. “Ah, Geoffrey.”

“Don’t you fucking—what did you do, Gavin?”

His eyebrow twitched, and he said nothing about the lack of title. “What are you on about?”

Geoff was clearly agitated about this. Gavin wanted to stretch it out long enough, see if he would crack and just go for it.

But Geoff wouldn’t dare hurt his deemed ‘little brother’ now would he?

“You know what I’m on about! Where’s Jack, and Ryan? Where the hell have you sent them off to, and why haven’t they come back yet?”

He reclined back on the throne, legs crossing. He made sure to keep the doll mostly hidden. “It has only been a month, Geoff.”

Those blue eyes were piercing, a fire building in them, along with the suspicion and worry. “Month’s too long. I know them both, and they wouldn’t take this long. You know that.”

“Oh, do I?”

Geoff huffed, hands forming into fists. He wanted answers, and he wanted it  _now._  Obviously he wasn’t buying it.

Gavin hadn’t underestimated Geoff at all.

The King stood, tucking the doll in its pouch. “Do you want to know what happened to them?”

“Why else am I here,” he grumbled, jaw clenching.

“I need only say two words,” Gavin said calmly, holding up two fingers. “Edgar’s hole.”

He walked to his desk as Geoff processed the words, and instantly he was being pinned against the table, a fist curling around the collar of his shirt, knuckles brushing against his Adam’s apple.

It was delicious. Gavin only smirked.

“You  _killed_ them?” he hissed, and Gavin saw the pure, unadulterated rage in his eyes. “You—Gavin, why?”

After the rage came the grief. Geoff bowed his head, growling in frustration.

“Why would you do that?”

He sounded so vulnerable.

“An eye for an eye, isn’t that right?” he murmured.

Gavin pushed him back, and he complied. With the grief came the hopelessness, the defeat. It was such a bore, but Gavin did not complain a bit.

He walked over to his desk, where a box shaped container lay under a sheet. The sound of fabric rustling was enough to catch Geoff’s attention, and the man’s head lifted slowly.

The sound Geoff made was music to his ears. He scrambled back, falling onto the floor and shuddering. Gavin smiled, running his hand over the silver bars of the cage.

And in that cage, was a bright green, venomous pit viper.

“Gavin—“ the words died on his lips as Gavin unlatched the gate, the snake slithering out onto his arm. It eyed Geoff warily.

“I would have killed you sooner, but the snake was difficult to tame right,” he said, petting its head gently.

Geoff put on a brave face and glared at Gavin, even as he scrambled back as the snake moved closer. “You won’t be able to get away with all this. When I’m gone, everyone will figure it out. Riots will start, and your little plan won’t be able to continue.”

At this Gavin laughed, hollow and mirthless. “Oh Geoffrey, no one disrespects the King. You underestimate my power.” He stepped closer, snake curling around his forearm slowly. “And no one will even notice that the First has died. No one remembers you anymore, Geoffrey.”

He looked offended. “My people remember me! They will _always_ remember the First, Gavin!”

“Not _your_ people anymore, Geoff. Mine,” he growled, already close enough to drop the snake to the floor. “Now,” he told it, “kill.”

Geoff didn’t even have time to scream.

-

The body was disposed of not a minute later, the servant dragging the corpse away and into the hole. Gavin grinned, watched as the snake on his arm coiled around the little Geoff doll.

It was thrown into the lava pit seconds later, and another doll came out of the sack.

And this one had a small rose pinned to its chest.


	4. Ray

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am really sorry for this.  
> TW: Suicide.  
> Centuries by Fall Out Boy was my jam to this, by the way. No idea why. And Midnight by Coldplay.  
> I have to admit I was so thrilled to finish this, despite the content.  
> oh hey, read this on my tumblr if you want. it's gavinfreever!!

He knew, from the moment he became King and had planned out all this, that he would never be able to hide anything from the Lads. But it didn’t matter, anyway.

Ray had cried when word finally got hold of him and Michael. To learn that his mentors and his greatest friends had suddenly been murdered, by none other than one of his closest friends? It was obviously harsh. Michael stayed strong for him, holding him as the tears dried. But there was a fire in those eyes, and Gavin watched them specifically to see that.

Bloodlust. Revenge. Gavin’s same motives.

The King told them this to see Ray break. Michael was the stronger one, of course. He knew it would be a bit more difficult to see him on his knees. But Gavin was willing to accept the challenge.

Being the King meant a lot more responsibilities. Meaning, he would be out with Michael and Ray less and less. It was all right, he didn’t really care anymore. But he had to admit, seeing Ray hanging onto Michael like that, still broken up about the death of the Gents, made Gavin’s blood boil and his eyes narrow into green slits.

Green with envy.

So began his plan to break Ray. His motive was simple: to get Ray to kill himself by the end of the week. It had a sort of poetry to it, he guessed. The man was a skilled assassin and fighter, and could take down anyone with his finesse and swiftness. It would be fitting for a man so skilled in taking others down to take himself down as well.

It was simple. He would still see the two other Lads anyway, since they lived in the castle with him, and he had already planted it in Ray’s head. He could have done something. _He could have saved them._ But he didn’t.

Michael was never there. If he was, Gavin would have more trouble. It would be easy to convince Ray that it was somehow his fault. He was still grieving and more naïve to this.

And knowing Ray, he would never say a word to Michael. He would bottle it all up and it would fester until he couldn’t take it anymore, and just burst.

That was exactly what happened.

He was playing with the little Ray doll, tossing it up into the air, when the doors of the throne room burst open. Ray stood there, hair dripping with sweat and sword in hand, eyes bright, furious, and—most importantly—tired.

“I know what you’ve been doing, Gavin. I know,” he said, fists clenched tightly as he stalked over to the throne, stopping just inches short of Gavin.

“Do you, now?” was all he said in reply, a light smirk on his face. He caught the little doll and tucked it in his pocket.

Ray lifted his sword, the blade pointed directly at his neck. “You killed them, Gavin. And I don’t know why, but I sure as hell don’t want to find out,” he sighed, the blade landing on the floor with a hiss of metal. Exhaustion rippled through him and he hung his head. “But what do you want with me, is the question.”

“You’re finally getting it,” Gavin said brightly, bending down to pick up the sword. He put it in Ray’s hand, making him curl his fingers around it. Then he sat back. “I just want you dead.”

He hadn’t expected Ray to smile. A tired, defeated smile, but a smile nonetheless.

“Alright, then. Goodbye.”

The sword was embedded all the way to the hilt before Gavin could say anything.

Blood dribbled out of Ray’s mouth and onto Gavin’s shoes, staining yellow with red. Gavin watched, eyes wide, as Ray fell to his side, head hitting the stone floor with a sickening crack.

Then he was gone.

Slowly, he stood, stepping over the body and taking the doll out. There was no smile, no laughter. He dropped the doll into the lava and watched as it was consumed.

Just like him, he realized.

Watching Ray die was a more of a shock than he wanted to admit. But it was necessary, he reminded himself.

And, as quickly as Ray had died, a smile stretched his lips. He chuckled darkly, now taking out the very last doll. A pale white one with russet curls.

Loud, angry footsteps. The door opened so forcefully it cracked.

“Gavin, what the _fuck_ —“

He didn’t let him finish, turning to him with the same smile on his face.

“Hello, my little Michael.”


	5. Michael

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> with the final death comes gavin's resolve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all I would like to say that I am so sorry for leaving this all for a long time. I just kind of lost the plot, and I needed to think about things. Also school was a bitch.  
> Second of all I would like to say that I got this idea in school and I wrote it down and I was so scared someone would find it and get me in trouble.  
> Lastly, I wanna say thanks for waiting!! I hope you enjoy, and I certainly had fun with this. I love all of you for reading!  
> If you wish to read this on, say, tumblr, my URL is gavinfreever.

_“Gavin, what the fuck—“_

_“Hello, my little Michael.”_

Michael’s eyes were bright, almost red with how furious he was. Gavin smiled, watching as those brown eyes drifted from him to the cold corpse in front of the throne.

“ _Ray!”_

The King only watched. Michael stumbled onto his knees in front of the body, pulling his head onto his lap. He watched as Michael bent down to press his forehead to Ray’s, shaky breaths leaving his lips. He smirked when Michael stood, eyes watery but bright with the need for revenge.

“You’ll pay for this, you fuck,” Michael spoke, voice dangerously low. “You’ll pay for everyone you’ve killed.”

“And what’s your master plan, Michael? Are you sure you can kill me? Kill your _boy_?” he challenged.

Michael hesitated, but he drew his sword. The diamond shone brilliantly in the dim lighting the throne room offered. He took his stance, holding the sword in front of him.

He looked ready to strike, but Gavin could see the uncertainty. The king knew how important he himself was to Michael. They were friends—best friends, even. The closest among the group, besides maybe Geoff and Jack, who had been together the longest.

Gavin held out his arms, taking a step closer to the man. “Go on, then. Kill me,” he spoke with calm assurance. He knew, of course he did, that Michael couldn’t do a thing to him. If he had trouble holding a sword to his other friends, what more of Gavin?

And Michael knew he knew. The king’s smug smirk only grew when he spotted Michael’s arm twitch, the urge to take revenge strong.

“Come on, Michael. I’m right here, you know you want to.”

He taunted, arms still held out to his sides. Michael’s jaw clenched, and he shook his head.

Suddenly Gavin was being pressed up against the wall, the sword pressed dangerously close to his throat. He felt the air knocked out of his lungs, and Michael’s hand gripping him firmly on the shoulder.

“Well, well,” he crooned, “little Mikey’s being a bit brave today.”

“Shut up,” Michael hissed at him. The fire in his eyes had softened, and Gavin knew he had gotten him then.

So shut up he did. He waited, for Michael to press the blade close enough to draw blood, for _something._

A minute passed. Nothing happened.

Gavin clicked his tongue at him and sighed. “You can’t do it, Michael, You know you can’t,” he spoke in a soft tone. It wasn’t even a lick smug, now Gavin felt tired. “You’re too much of a softie to kill me.”

“…you’re right,” Michael murmured a second later, the sword falling to his side. He pressed his forehead to Gavin’s shoulder, breathing heavily. “Just—Gavin, why would you do this?”

The king sighed, gently prying the blade from Michael’s hand. He held it loosely in his own, not letting go just yet. “Michael…”

“We’re your _friends_ , Gav. Friends are supposed to take care of each other, and look what you did!” Michael was getting angry again, Gavin could tell. He always worked himself up.

But Gavin wasn’t in the mood to argue now. He gripped the hilt tighter in his hands, as Michael prattled on about how much of a monster he was that he would kill his own _friends_ , and Gavin didn’t need to hear this, he knew it already, so he shut him up.

He pushed him off himself, and Michael hit the ground with a dull thud. He was mad now, as Gavin pointed the sword at him, face twisted in a sneer.

“Shut up, Michael,” he hissed, tone weak but sharp enough. Michael scooted back, and Gavin easily saw what he was getting at. He was trying to get to Ray. To another weapon. Gavin snorted, pulling his own diamond sword from his side. “Don’t even bother,” he said, throwing it at Michael’s feet.

The man scrambled for it, getting to his feet and raising his sword. If it was a fight Michael wanted then it was a fight he would get.

Gavin smirked, twisting the sword slightly. “I would’ve have finished you off sooner, but I wanted to savor this. It’s been fun, you know?”

He was back into this persona again. _It’s necessary_ , he reminded himself as Michael scowled.

“Fuck you,” he spat, and they were off. Michael, with his charging, strong blows, and Gavin, with his quick dodges and parrying attacks. He knew how much Michael hated this; he always wanted to get to the point, not dance around and faff about. It was irking him already, and soon Michael wouldn’t be in total control.

His composure was already deteriorating because of everything else. It was Gavin’s chance to strike.

Michael always underestimated Gavin when it came to things like these, so he didn’t even have time to register it. Gavin blocked an attack, but instead of withdrawing, he pushed them forward, up against the wall. He pinned him so he wouldn’t be able to attack.

And plunged the sword straight into his stomach.

As Michael’s eyes widened in shock and fear because _he didn’t want to die, God no_ , it hit Gavin. His resolve crumbled, and he realized that _he didn’t want this, not anymore._

He let out a shuddering breath, pressing his head to Michael’s shoulder. Their roles were reversed now, and it made Gavin smile weakly.

An idea suddenly popped into his head.

“Michael,” he started, freeing the hand that held the sword. “Michael, Michael, please, end it.”

He would die. He would die with his boy, and all the lads would die the same way.

And he was expecting, with all the rage Michael felt earlier, that he’d agree and just end it, too. But he didn’t.

Instead, he dropped the sword in his hand. “No, go fuck yourself,” he said weakly. It hurt to speak. “I won’t—I won’t give you the satisfaction, you monster. You did this to yourself, now go and face the consequences.”

“Michael, _please_ , my boy…” Gavin breathed, letting go off the hilt of his own sword and wrapping his arms around the dying man, supporting him. His face was pale with remorse, and he shot Michael a pained look. “Please…”

“Don’t you _dare_ call me that now,” Michael spat venomously. He fell against Gavin, grunting in pain. He was paling, losing blood quickly. “It’s your fault, and you will not die with me.”

Gavin flinched at that, and it was satisfying in a bittersweet way. Michael smiled, and then he was gone.

The king shook at he held Michael fell limp in his arms. Unbidden tears welled up in his eyes and he choked back a sob as he blinked them away. He carried Michael’s body to the throne, laid him next to Ray. They were both smiling, he realized. It led him to wonder if Ryan died smiling, Or Jack, or Geoff. He barely remembered now, didn’t even know. But he hoped they did.

Gavin slumped in his throne, his head in his hands. The exhilaration, the thrill, was gone now. Now it was only disgust. Everyone he ever cared for was gone now, and it was all because of him.

_It’s your fault. Live with the consequences._

And so Gavin sat, head in his hands and body shaking heavily with sobs. Alone.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> five down, one more to go.


	6. Gavin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm back earlier this time! to be honest i had this all written down at school, i just got too lazy to type it and stuff. but i finally got round to it and now here it is!!  
> you can also read it on my tumblr: gavinfreever  
> ps: im so sorry for this.  
> pps: i also made my friend almost-cry at this. idk he's probably not being on sad things.

 

Numb.

It was the feeling—or lack thereof—that spread through him as he watched the last of the dolls burn. It was the feeling that only grew was he ordered the bodies to be disposed. “In the hole, where the others are,” he said dismissively, waving a hand to shoo them away quickly. He watched, feeling a hole cave inside of him, as they dragged the corpses of his two closest friends away. He hadn’t even closed their eyes.

_Your fault._

Bone-crushing regret came next. And with regret, came the grief.

He would sit on his throne for days on end, silent and hunched over. He wouldn’t eat, drink, or sleep, his mind too occupied with all the self-deprecating thoughts and mourning to do anything else. His eyes grew dull, dark circles forming around them, and his face lost all colour, cheeks sunken in.

And with the lack of sustenance, his body weakened completely. He could barely move, body frail and exhausted. But it didn’t matter, he didn’t want to move anyway.

Back when the others were alive, he would sometimes forget to eat. He would be too busy horsing around with the other lads that at the end of day he would realise he had only eaten one meal.

The gents, especially Geoff, who was always around the lad, noticed. And so they took it upon themselves to remind him to eat. Ryan would offer him some snacks now and then, Jack would drag Gavin to the kitchens when he wasn’t extremely preoccupied, and Geoff would randomly shove food in his mouth whenever he could. And Gavin would always thank them at the end of the day.

But now they weren’t alive to do so.

Memories washed over him, serving to push him deeper into his guilt. He missed them _so much._ Tears welled in his eyes but didn’t fall, and he curled into himself slowly, still sat on the throne. He berated himself mentally, telling himself he had no right to cry.

After all, it was his fault.

But tears overflowed and he let them flow as he buried his face in his knees. He was tired, so tired.

His eyes closed before he could think about it. And he dreamt.

He dreamt that he was standing in a field. The grass tickled his bare feet and he looked up at the clear sky, with no recollection of how he got there. His lips pursed in a small frown and he looked around.

Then he saw them. His heart nearly burst out of his chest in joy because there, in the distance, were his friends, all five of them, gathered together and laughing.

Immediately he broke into a sprint. “Guys!” he called, waving frantically at them. He frowned when they didn’t seem to hear, like he wasn’t there. But he pumped his legs faster and called again, “Guys!”

No response. No one even looked over, and Gavin felt tears come to his eyes. He was so close now, just a bit more. “Guy—!”

He slammed into a wall, nearly sending him to the ground. Panic spread through him and he recoiled, frantically pounding at the invisible barrier with the palms of his hands. But it wouldn’t budge, so all he could do was watch. Watch his friends joke around only a few feet away from him. He wanted to touch them, wanted to hear their laughter. But all sounds was muted, and he couldn’t move past the barrier.

Tears of frustration slowly built up and overflowed, and he cried out, forehead pressed to the glass. He sobbed, helplessness spreading through him as he continued to watch.

He barely even noticed as the temperature rose, but then sweat started to form on the back of his neck. Sweat dripped down his forehead as he looked up, and saw bright orange.

It was pouring down the heavens, burning the grass. He realized with horror that it was slowly making its way to the group of men, who didn’t even seem to know what was happening. Gavin screamed, clawing at the barrier as he yelled for them to do something because, “there’s bloody lava behind you, you knobs!”

But his screams fell on deaf ears, and then it was too late. And Gavin was forced to watch, body freezing up in horror.

The lava consumed them all, and inaudible screams rang loudly in his ears. He let out a sob, backing away and falling to his knees, his muscles regaining feeling and his knees buckling soon after. He could’ve saved, he could’ve.

 _Your fault_.

A scream tore itself from his throat and he was plunged into darkness.

-

He woke to the sound of hissing.

Immediately he sprang into action, eyes shooting open and limbs flailing. But it was to no avail, as Gavin yanked at his arm to find it bound tight above him. He looked up, and almost screamed.

Snakes, binding his limbs and slithering all around him.

His breath hitched in his throat and he began to look around, looking for something, _anything_ , to help him escape. He looked to the dirt walls at his side, then went to face in front of him.

Only to be met with the dull, yellow eyes of Edgar.

Gavin half-screamed, half-gasped. Warm breath ghosted over his face as Edgar huffed, eyes narrowing slightly as he backed away. Gavin’s arms twitched with the need to break free, but with the snakes coiled around him, it didn’t seem like a good idea.

With a small sigh, he looked up, eyes straining at the bright light that poured down from the glass opening.

Dirt walls, glass opening.

Edgar’s hole.

His face crumped in defeat, and he went to stare back at Edgar. He slumped back, tired.

Something sharp immediately poked the small of his back, and he recoiled, hearing the snakes hiss at the sudden movement. He straightened his back, trying to lay still.

It felt like a sword, probably diamond. He wriggled slightly and returned his gaze to Edgar.

Then suddenly the snakes were moving, lowering him down. He struggled, feeling the sword dig into his back. He let out a choked gasp as it sank deeper. It was going too fast, he could barely register it. The pain didn’t help, and his head hit the ground with a dull thump.

Pain, pain, and more pain suddenly bloomed from his stomach, and he screamed, voice hoarse, looking down to see the bloodied blade of a diamond sword.

…sticking out of his stomach.

Everything went dark.

-

Gavin jolted into consciousness, arms shooting out to grab the arms of his throne, his crown falling off his head with a dull thud.

It was dark, meaning night had fallen. Gavin got up, hands shaking profusely as he tried to process what happened. _It was a dream,_ he told himself, hands feeling around his stomach. _A bloody terrible dream, but a dream._

A whimper fell from his lips, and he hunched over, hugging himself, as he struggled to not cry.

He wanted to feel Geoff’s arms around him, telling him it was okay. He wanted Michael’s hands to run through his hair to calm him, Ryan rubbing circles into his back, Jack murmuring soft assurances, and Ray pressing his forehead against his, telling him that he was fine, that, “You’re okay, it was only a dream. You’re safe. You’re with us.”

But he wasn’t with them anymore, and he wouldn’t be able to see them again. Gavin dry-heaved, swallowing deeply and shaking off the feeling of crying, of breaking down.

His legs felt like jelly and he felt his knees hit the cold floor of the throne room. He wanted Geoff, and Michael, and Ryan, and Jack, and Ray. He wanted them all next to him, and he wanted— _needed—_

He wanted to hear their laughter as he apologised, as though they knew he didn’t mean it. Wanted to hear Michael call him an idiot, and that as long as he didn’t do it again, they were okay. He wanted to feel Ray hug him and tell him it was no problem, and for Ryan to run fingers through his hair and tell him, “You are forgiven,” in his incredibly dramatized way. He wanted to laugh with them, laugh as Geoff affectionately punched him in the arm and told him to, “Never do it again, asshole.” And he wanted to feel Jack’s warmth as he hugged him, apologising profusely, and to hear those words again.

“Hey, it’s okay now. You’re with us.”

Gavin’s lips cracked as he smiled, and he stood, now determined. They would forgive him, right? They were his friends, of course they had to!

 _But they might not,_ Gavin’s brain supplied as he walked around the room. _What you did was unforgivable._

“Maybe,” he muttered. He twirled the noose in his hands.

He figured it was worth a shot.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you enjoyed that! despite it, yknow, being sad...  
> thanks to all those who stuck around, you're pretty great! and those who didn't too, at least they read some of it before completely giving up on my sorry ass.  
> until next time!


End file.
